Humble, yes, but proud of yourself

by Régis Soavi

Nowadays it seems that the meaning of the word “pride” has become misleadingly loaded, and pride has almost become a major flaw in certain classes of society. The word “proud” is wrongly used to define “someone who believes themselves to be superior to others and shows it by their behaviour”, when in my opinion it is often simply a conceited and unconscious person.

Self-esteem

Self-esteem, which is eminently respectable, is too often confused with vanity which is a form of self-satisfaction that can only harm us. However, someone “who is supposedly aware of his or her limitations and weaknesses, and who shows this through a deliberately modest and self-effacing attitude” can be said to be humble, even if this humility is false and serves only to deceive people around them. The political world has always been full of this kind of usurpation of the terms “humble” or “proud”. Humility implies a societal relationship, it is necessary in relation to others to maintain an external as well as an internal balance, but it must not harm our state of awareness and the force that guides us in our lives.

Self-love

This begins at birth in its natural form called egocentrism and should not be feared despite the recommendations of certain schools of paediatrics or pedagogy, because it is essential to the survival of the little child. Very quickly, the child becomes aware of being and is proud of what they are and of what they can do or say. They participate in the world not as a dependent creature but already as a creator of what surrounds him; for him, the world “belongs to him and they want to enjoy it”. The life force that struggles to be contained in this small body drives them to exercise their abilities in all the opportunities it finds within its reach, and even beyond. If it is not broken by its upbringing, it will retain a sense of what we call self-love, which in my humble opinion is pride. Self-love pushes us to go beyond our abilities, to seek further and deeper, to discover, in order to be proud of ourselves, what fills us with satisfaction and at the same time stimulates the desire to surpass ourselves, a desire that is inherent to all living beings.

To be proud of one’s talents is the opposite of conceit and to be aware of what one is capable of doing is not vanity. Too often I have seen and welcomed people in the dojo who were no longer aware of their real abilities and so invented fictitious ones in order to survive in a world where only the strongest seem to have the upper hand. Broken down, they wait for orders or at least examples to imitate and become what they will never be in reality, but will pretend to be in front of those weaker than themselves.

A humble dojo

It is in one of those old districts of Paris, which has retained a quiet yet popular atmosphere, that, as an old-fashioned Parisian, I am lucky enough to teach every morning.

Tucked away on the first floor of a former industrial building, the Tenshin Dojo is located in the twentieth arrondissement of Paris. You enter through a door that opens onto a small cul-de-sac on one side and a small garden on the other, which you have to cross before climbing the stairs. There are no flashy illuminated signs, no large photos extolling the virtues of the place and offering fitness and/or physical culture and martial arts. Located next to the old petite ceinture (a disused railway that used to encircle Paris), very close to one of those railway bridges that almost no longer exist, it has the charm of those hidden places you like to discover when you go for a walk in the city on a strike day or on a holiday when the city is deserted. When you enter the dojo, everything changes; although the windows in the cafe area look out onto the garden, and the birdsong can be heard as soon as you open them, the tatami area is like a cocoon of over 200 square metres, lit both by the sky and by the luminous fans on the ceiling.

The dojo is the fruit of the hard work of the practitioners who have renovated it and maintained it on a daily basis, and for us it cuts a proud figure. In this place where the body works and where one works on the body, where there is gentleness and concentration as well as resistance and tenacity, everyone who takes part in the Aikido or Katsugen Undo¹ sessions feels proud to be there, without any pretention, but with the pleasure of experiencing what the everyday world has made difficult or even impossible for some. Everything has to be regained, and if the desire is there, the place lends itself to it. If the dojo presents itself so humbly (that is its Ura side), it is also to allow the encounter with simple and courageous people who will discover its interest (its Omote side) beyond appearances.

humble mais fiere — O sensei Ueshiba: what a magnificient posture!

Humility and posture

Preserving humility so that we can rediscover the pride of being who we really are is not without interest, and is often a necessity in the face of inflated egos of recent origin, often due to the upbringing of children from a privileged section of society. Humble people are usually depicted bent over, folded in two, head down, which is really nothing more than a sign of submission or renunciation. The breathing in this case is blocked or wheezing and the whole body will tend to resort to deceit if it is not already the case. Humility and humiliation are two different things, you do not become humble through humiliation, the healthiest reaction is rebellion, then you stand up straight to show your abilities, even in adversity. When the body is upright, the skeleton is in balance and no longer crushed by the weight of the flesh, its surroundings keep it in that posture, animated by that vital energy which is difficult to define but which we know and recognise.

To this day I remember Tsuda sensei’s posture as he left the dojo after the morning session, carrying his bag to do some shopping before going home. To those who did not know him, he looked like an ordinary man, an Asian choosing fruit in the rue Saint-Denis or buying a newspaper, but to those who could “see”, he exuded a presence, a way of moving that was different from all those around him. With his back straight and his head aligned, you could say that he cut a fine figure; and even without knowing anything about posture you could feel his inner strength, his “aura”.

Tsuda Itsuo sensei. The body straightens up and stands out in a crowd

One

All the masters who had been students of Ueshiba Morihei and under whose guidance I had the opportunity to learn and train, such as Noro sensei, Nocquet sensei and Tamura sensei, had a very high regard for what had been transmitted to them and felt that they had a mission that they could not betray. As well as others like Sugano sensei, Hikitsuchi sensei, Kobayashi sensei and Shirata sensei, whom I met during training courses, they all had great simplicity and rigour, and were proud to pass on our art with the humility that befitted each of them, clearly knowing how to be both “proud and humble” at the same time.

Obviously Tsuda sensei, who was my master for ten years, was part of this tradition and he knew very well how to put us in our place when necessary, often with humour or mockery because he had the art of guiding us without demeaning us, but rather by enhancing our own qualities and never letting us take pride out of them.

Here is a text by Noguchi Haruchika² translated by Tsuda sensei, which at first glance and for those who do not know the author may seem extremely pretentious, but which can also give us a small idea of the vision of a master recognised as the most prestigious in his art.

‘THOUGHTS ON THE FULL LIFE

I am.

I am the Centre of the Universe.

Life lies in me.

Life has no beginning or end.

Through me, it extends to infinity, through me, it binds itself to eternity.

As Life is absolute and infinite, I too am absolute and infinite. If I move, the Universe moves. If the Universe moves, I move. “I” and the Universe are One, indivisible, a body and a mind.

I am free and without barriers. I am detached from life and death. The same goes, of course, for old age and disease. Now I realise Life and remain in infinite and eternal peace.

My conduct in daily life remains undeterred and unalterable. This conviction is incorruptible and eternally unassailable.

Oum! All is well.’ ³

Tsuda sensei adds a few remarks in his book: ‘Perhaps this thought needs no comment for those who feel its impact directly. Yet I am aware of the enormous distance that separates this thought from Western thinking, which underlies the mental structure of the civilised. […]

[…]

I am.

This statement is simple, profound and sublime.

Unlike Descartes, Noguchi does not need to prove his assertion. His position is not removed from his statement, but “inside” it.

This can embarrass us with its very simplicity[…]. But no one dares to say: I simply am.

[…]

I am the Centre of the Universe.

From the Western point of view, these can only be the words of a madman. Is Noguchi a megalomaniac, a fanatic who thinks he is God? […]

Yet what he says is simply a very banal observation: I am alone in feeling the direct value of my experience. As such, anyone can recognise that they are themselves the Centre of the Universe. To each his Universe.

Mental universe? Subjective universe? How many Universes are there in the Universe?’ ⁴

Calligraphy by Tsuda Itsuo. I am. I am the Centre of the Universe. In me lies Life

A proud bearing

Let us look at O sensei’s posture when he walks or when he waters his flowers: what a magnificent posture! In the same way, I am speechless when I see how Jikkishin-kage-ryu expert Shimada Teruko sensei moves.

Men and women, without distinction, show haughtiness in their presence in front of others, as well as simplicity and modesty in their private lives. Not so long ago, poise was valued, and if it was not used to hide flaws, weakness, mediocrity or even falsehood, it was supposed to reflect the inner self, the “soul” of the person. Today, many values are considered negative or absurd: one sees arrogance, pride, stupidity, childishness, etc., whereas my way of understanding the world saw boldness, courtesy, intelligence or panache, as in the “No, grammercy!” tirade from Edmond Rostand’s play Cyrano de Bergerac⁵.

Martial arts, and more particularly Aikido, bring us back to ourselves, regardless of the education we have received. It is a chance to refocus and at the same time to measure our independence and our dependence on everything around us. It is an opportunity, through contact with others, to rediscover our living roots, invisible though they may be, but not immaterial, or rather made of a materiality not yet recognised as measurable. With regular practice, the body straightens up, and without being remarkable, it will stand out in a crowd as a charged element worthy of interest.

Régis Soavi

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Article by Régis Soavi published in Self et Dragon (Spécial Aikido n° 14) in July 2023.

Notes:

Katsugen Undo (in English, Regenerating Movement): a practice which normalises the body by activating the extra-pyramidal motor system (involuntary system)
Noguchi Haruchika (1911–1976) founder of Seitai, whose teachings Tsuda I. followed for over twenty years
Tsuda Itsuo, One, 2017, Yume Editions, Chap. I, pp. 11–12 (1^st ed. in French, 1983, pub. Le Courrier du Livre (Paris), p. 7)
ibid., pp. 12–13 (pp. 8–9)
Edmond Rostand, Cyrano de Bergerac, Act II, Scene VIII, trans. by Gladys Thomas and Mary Frances Guillemard available online (1^st ed. in French, 1898, Librairie Charpentier et Fasquelle (Paris))

Itsuo Tsuda School